Blood Unleashed (Blood Stone)

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  “Hail!” Nial shouted. “Into the amphitheater, now!” He began to scramble up the slope, pulling Winter up alongside him.

  Rick grabbed her arm and began to haul her up the slope, too. He had Marcus’ arm in his other hand. Ilaria tried to sling the Timberwolf back over her shoulder, but Rick’s strength was too much for her to be able to keep her feet and swing her arm at the same time. She gripped the barrel of the rifle desperately, and concentrated on staying on her feet. The hail was hurting, a shower of pebbles against her back and head and arms.

  She reached the lip of the slope and threw herself over it, then began sliding and half-running down the slope on the other side. Down toward the amphitheater.

  There was no rain on this side of the slope. Instead, the air was filled with murmuring, and lights danced above in the sky, like a bright, fast display of the Aurora Borealis.

  Ilaria brought herself to a halt, teetering right on the edge of the circular depression that made up the center of the amphitheater. When she had last looked through her scope, Heru had been standing in the center, next to the glowing stone. His interpreter had been a few paces away. Bryon, the human who had sheltered Heru, had been hovering by the edge of the area, while a woman that Ilaria guessed had been a vampire had been backed right up against the edge of the arena.

  There was no one there now, except Heru. He was staring up at the sky, his arms raised, calling out in a language she did not recognize. It was not his normal dialect.

  Everyone else had paused on the edge of the arena, too. Heru took no notice of them. He continued to speak, and amongst the words was one Ilaria recognized from Roman’s long, long lecture on the flight over from America to Turkey.

  Summani.

  Heru was calling out to the Summanus and the lights above his head were roiling in agitation.

  Roman stepped over the lip of the arena, down onto the flat ground. He lifted his head up to the sky. “I call out to the Serena!” he cried. “Hear me! A great injustice has been done. I demand a hearing so the injustice may be righted! Do you hear me?” He waited, listening and watching.

  Ilaria turned to Rick. “I could kill him now,” she whispered, nodding toward Heru. The Ancient One stood barely fifteen feet from her and his attention was completely upon the skies over his head.

  Rick shook his head. “Let’s wait,” he suggested. There was a deep crease between his brows and his voice was distant. He was thinking deeply.

  “Serene Ones!” Roman cried. “Come to me!”

  “We have come.” The voice was quiet, but there was a musical cadence to the words that called for attention.

  Roman spun, looking across the arena. The Blood Stone was gone.

  A woman stood on the other side of the rock where the Blood Stone had been sitting. She seemed to be lit from within. She didn’t glow, but there was a luminescence to her skin that made her distinctly non-human. She walked slowly around the rock, watching Roman. “We have heard your call, Roman Adrian Xerus.” She was wearing jeans and a simple white top, which made Ilaria think that the clothing and the woman’s appearance had been instantly adjusted to match the person who had called for her presence.

  Heru moved around his end of the rock, heading toward her. He began to speak, but the woman held up her hand and he fell silent. “You will speak in your turn,” she told him. Heru grew red in the face, his throat and lips working, but his mouth did not open. She had silenced him.

  The serene one stopped at what looked like a pace away from Roman, but her feet, encased in elegant boots, were not touching the ground. “We are listening,” she finished gravely.

  Nial waved everyone forward. He stepped over the edge onto the arena floor and moved to stand behind Roman. Marcus helped Ilaria over the edge, and they stepped over to join Nial, as did everyone else.

  The woman watched them assemble with mild curiosity. She did not seem to be surprised in any way. Her eyes were unblinking. She fixed her gaze upon Roman, waiting patiently.

  Roman lifted his hand and pointed toward Heru. “This one has delivered grave ills upon the world. He has unleashed the old races, which you locked away inside the Blood Stone thousands and thousands of years ago. He has killed and maimed and injured in his quest to release the Summani, the Elah and the Ĉiela, simply so he may gather more power for himself. He calls to the Summani, to bargain with them for his new glory. He is corrupt and unfeeling.”

  “Yet he is of your race,” the serene one pointed out. “Has this new race we left behind to care for our world become so corrupt?”

  “Like any race, madam,” Nial said over Roman’s shoulder, “there are corrupt souls among the many good ones.”

  She glanced at each of them. “It pleases me to see humans and the blood working together. This is as we designed, but the synergies I see among you surpass our expectations. I will listen to your plea.” She looked at Roman expectantly. “Tell me how this one has lost his way.”

  Heru looked furious. He was trying to shift his feet, without success. His arms waved wildly as he worked at lifting them.

  Roman drew in a deep breath. “It’s a long story,” he told the serene one.

  “I have all the time in the world,” she said, with a glimmer of a smile.

  Roman began the tale back in the past, when he had first heard about the stone. He summarized quickly the hundreds of years since then and his quest to learn more about it. Then he looked at Nial. “This is Nathanial Aquila Valerius Aurelius, madam. He will explain the progress vampires have made, and their integration with humans, which will happen very soon.”

  Nial bowed low to the woman, who gave another small smile. She clearly liked being kowtowed to.

  He straightened and began to speak, outlining the political situation with the vampires and humans. He did not lie and he did not omit a single fact, including those that did not paint vampires in the best possible light.

  “I appreciate the truth that you have provided me,” the serene one told Nial, as he stepped back.

  Roman gestured to Kate. “This is Kate,” he told the serene one, who had not moved in the many minutes they had been speaking. “She will tell you how she found the stone.”

  Kate stepped forward and nodded at the woman. She told the story of how she had chased down a local rumor in the small Turkish town of Çayönü, during her archeological research for a movie. The Serene One did not seem to have any trouble understanding the concept of research, movies or any modern terminology that Kate used. She listened attentively, her attention never wavering.

  Rick stepped up beside Kate and when Kate had finished explaining how Heru had stolen the Blood Stone from her own trailer, he bent low in a deep bow. “I will tell you about Heru, madam, for I know him well. I can tell you about his excesses.”

  She nodded in acknowledgement. “Speak,” she told him.

  Rick told the tale of how he had come to be in America, and the work he had done for Nial. Then, meeting Ilaria and discovering her inscription. He pulled Ilaria forward and Ilaria bowed as low as he had done, holding the rifle behind her.

  “I see the mark you both wear,” the Serene One said. “But it has lost its effectiveness. Tell me why.”

  Rick explained how he had deliberately retrieved his memories of his inscription, in order to free Ilaria. Marcus stepped up beside them, taking Ilaria’s hand. He didn’t speak, but she was glad he was there. It was a silent support that helped her stay still under the woman’s steady gaze.

  Bartholomew stepped forward, then. “I would like to explain the balance of power in this world, and how Heru has put the future of both humans and vampires in jeopardy by breaking the stone.” He spoke for three minutes, his voice rolling across the amphitheater, as he painted a future that looked bleak and dismal. Ilaria listened to him speak of a world forever at war against the three races Heru had released and shuddered. Bartholomew was not lying.

  “The Blood were put upon this world to protect and help humans,” the serene o
ne replied. “You protest your ordained role in human affairs?”

  “Not at all, serene one. We look forward to the challenges that face us. It will be a pleasure to fulfil our purpose after so long has passed while we lingered in the shadows.”

  “This creature may be of our race,” Roman said, pointing to Heru once more. “But he has worked to destroy members of our race. He holds no regard for humans at all. They are less than ants to him.”

  The woman turned to face Heru. “You have been provided the means to hear all that was spoken against you. What do you say?”

  Heru began to babble. The woman did not seem to have any issues understanding him, just as he had clearly understood her. He spoke for a couple of minutes, and the woman held up her hand. He fell silent. From the look on his face and the way his jaw worked, his silence was her idea.

  “The breaking of the stone called for a blood sacrifice. You were the one to summon the races from the stone, yet you did not offer yourself up in return. Instead, you mislead your servant into paying that price for you. We watched you do this. It condemns you, just as the words of these people do.”

  Heru tried to speak. He tried to lift his feet. His face was very red.

  “You are an old one,” she said, speaking as if he was listening to every word. “You are like the Summani you tried to call to you. The light of the sun is your enemy. It is time you met the enemy you fear, Menes Heru Asar Iah.”

  Heru stopped struggling, staring at her.

  From the sky above him, a shaft of pure sunlight appeared. It bathed Heru in a tight circle of daylight.

  He threw up his arms, protecting himself, and screamed. His flesh began to smoke and bubble.

  Ilaria tried to draw away, horror circling through her. But Marcus and Rick kept her locked between them. “You should watch all of it,” Marcus said. “Then you will know absolutely that you are free.”

  Flames were licking over Heru’s body, then with a soft whoosh, his clothing caught and the flames leapt the length of his body.

  Heru dropped to his knees, the screams fading. There was another small puff of energy and the flames disappeared. Instead, there was a small pile of dust that stirred in the shifts of wind. The sunlight winked out.

  “So passes another legend,” Nial murmured, sounding sad.

  “She’s gone!” Patrick said.

  The Serene One had disappeared.

  EPILOGUE

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Two weeks later.

  Winter opened the door, looking flustered. “Marcus, you made it!” She surprised him by kissing his cheek as she drew him into the house. “Everyone is here,” she added.

  “Everyone?” he asked, his heart sinking. He had just spent an intense five days being debriefed by the CIA. It had been during one of the marathon sessions that McLaren had revealed he was a vampire, and that two others in the vampire unit were also vampires.

  After Marcus had told his story for the first time, McLaren had turned into a reasonable…well, human being. McLaren was Libertatus, but that division between vampires was fading fast. Between the two of them, they had hammered out the story they were going to give to humans who were not yet aware. The story didn’t have to hold water for too long, so the debriefing had only lasted a few days, rather than the weeks they could have held him.

  Marcus had suffered through the process with as much good grace as he could muster. He wanted to see Rick and Ilaria. He wanted to be back at the apartment. He wanted to go back to the big house in the Hollywood Hills. The people who frequented Nial’s home were infinitely more interesting than most of the normal humans Marcus knew.

  This morning, McLaren had officially cut him loose and had walked him out to the pavement. It was a glorious day. Eighty degrees and cloudless. Marcus had let the sun play on his face.

  “You’re really going back to them?” McLaren asked suddenly.

  “I’m really going back.”

  “I know Cyneric Pæga. We met a few decades ago. He’s a prick.” McLaren grimaced. “But from what you say, he has reason to be.”

  “That’s what I thought about you.” Marcus smiled. “You don’t know him as well as you think you do.”

  “I guess.” McLaren turned back to face the doors. “I’ll be in touch. The next few weeks are going to be…interesting.”

  Marcus had headed for his car and driven straight out here, with Pantera playing at full blast. It had helped wash away the mental cobwebs that five days of sitting in a room and breathing canned air had given him. So had thinking about Rick and Ilaria.

  But if everyone was here, did that mean the Libertatus…and McLaren? He’d just got away from all that.

  Winter gave him another warm smile. “They’re both here,” she told him. “They arrived about twenty minutes ago. Don’t worry, it’s just family.”

  Family. The word gave him a jolt, but he thought it over as he made his way into the big front room. There was no other way to describe the people who worked directly with Nial. They were an eclectic mix of normal humans, enhanced humans, vampires, former vampires and other species, like Winter. They were more than just co-workers, too. After the breaking of the stone, Marcus had seen them all differently, and knew they felt the same. Something had changed them all that night. There was a common glue drawing them together.

  Ilaria hurried straight over to him as soon as he spotted her. She threw her arms around his neck, jumping up to do so, and rained kisses all over his face, then kissed him properly, a long, deep and lingering kiss that made him forget to breathe. He came up for air, and smiled at her. “Hello to you, too,” he murmured. Everyone standing nearby was smiling.

  Ilaria gave him the small, warm smile he liked to think was reserved just for him. Or at least Rick and him. The smile spoke of share secrets and intimacies. It never failed to make him feel wonderful and prompt memories of the three of them in bed, making his breath pause.

  “They’re having a party,” Ilaria told him. “You got here just in time.”

  “A party at two in the afternoon?” he asked.

  “Why not?” Rick asked, moving closer to them. He gave Marcus a smile of his own. Marcus knew for certain that Rick’s smile was for him and Ilaria – Rick remained Cyneric for everyone else, even though none of them had hidden their relationship. It was going to take a long while for Rick to learn how to be himself with everyone, instead of the biological computer construct he had used for centuries.

  Rick stroked the back of Marcus’ neck, where no one could see the caress. “It’s good to see you,” he murmured. “You have been missed.”

  “Terribly missed!” Ilaria declared, her arms tightening for a moment.

  “What, exactly, are you wearing?” Marcus asked her, untangling himself and putting her at arm’s length so he could study the effect. Ilaria’s clothing choices had grown more eccentric and individual as she worked to learn what she liked and didn’t like, and develop her personal style. Sometimes the result was odd. Sometimes it was very pleasing indeed – like the day she had worn a chiffon wrap dress and nothing beneath it. That had been rousing day.

  Today she wore leather shorts – and they were very short – over black stockings and boots that came up over her knee. The shirt was a floral print, and she had casually tied it at the front without bothering to fasten any of the buttons. Over the top, she wore a jacket…or maybe it was a coat. But it was long, coming down past the boots. The inside of the jacket – coat – was the same material as her shirt.

  “Very interesting,” Marcus said approvingly, his gaze returning to the way the shirt curved around her breasts, and revealed the flesh between them.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Sebastian murmured, next to them. Rick stepped away, putting a good pace between them. Sebastian held out a champagne glass toward Marcus. It was empty.

  Marcus took the glass and tipped it upside down. “Put some Jim Beam in there, and I’m set.”

  “Not too many of us can drink the r
eal stuff, in this room,” Sebastian said, “and Nial won’t toast with water – he says it’s bad luck. So we toast with empty glasses.”

  Nial tapped a spoon against the side of his glass and the room fell silent. Marcus glanced around at the faces that made up this ‘family’. Kate, Garret and Roman together. Winter, Nial and Sebastian, whom he had finally discovered were all married to each other. Dominic, who stood ‘listening’ to everyone with a contended smile on his face. Sasha, who showed no signs of returning home any time soon. Rick and Ilaria. It was a huge family, but Marcus had grown to like all of them.

  “This may be the last time we are collected together in one room like this,” Nial told them. “Humans are starting to ask questions we cannot answer with anything but the truth. Hailing frogs and falling ash, rivers running blood, birds massing and trees dying overnight. Humans may not know what we know, but they are sensitive to portents and symbols. They are becoming aware of the greater world around them. They still do not know why most of eastern Turkey was without power for three days, but…” He glanced at everyone in the room, his gaze circling around. “It’s time to tell them. They must be warned, and we must prepare for what is to come. The world we knew has gone and our new reality is waiting for us.”

  He held up his glass. “The world ahead will have many evil and bleak days, but let us agree to work to fill our glasses with joy, happiness and above all, freedom for each and every one of us. Bona valetudo.”

  “Cheers,” Marcus said, lifting his glass. Rick’s and Ilaria’s touched his with soft clinks.

  * * * * *

  The Cotswolds, Britain.

  “Are we there yet?” Ilaria asked impatiently, rocking on the seat, with her knees to her chest. She was wearing a sundress today, and the hem stopped a long way short of her knees, so with her stilettos propped on the edge of the seat like that, most of her thighs were on display. The back of the sundress didn’t exist. It scooped down nearly to her ass and was a dire distraction whenever Marcus looked in that direction. He was glad he wasn’t driving.